Baby coon
by WhiteTree
Summary: How many of you rember this story? Calvin and Hobbes find a sick baby racoon out in the woods, and hurry to take it home. Will it survive? Alt. C/H POV.


**Baby Coon**

**A/N: How many of you remember this cartoon? I really liked it cuz it showed Calvin at his best. (So cute and thoughtful) Here's another attempt at a C&H fanfic! I dunno if it's any good, but I really like this one, like I said, so I figured I'd give it a go. Well, R&R and tell me if I should give up writing for Calvin and Hobbes, or if it's ok. Thnx! ;)**

**Calvin's POV**

It was a beauteous fall morning; the birds were singing; the leaves were changing colors right before our eyes; the air was warm but not too warm… The perfect day. Well, almost perfect. If I hadn't just been to school then it would've REALLY been perfect. But, on the upside, IT WAS FRIDAY!!! Of course that makes up for school. Because after Friday comes Saturday, and Saturday means NO SCHOOL!!! Yipee!

Hobbes and I were walking along a path, one of the many paths in our woods, and just heading home due to the furious grumblings of our stomachs. We were nearing home when we heard it; a mewing cry. I've never heard anything so mournful in my life. It was a pain-induced, hopeless cry.

"Hobbes! Do you hear that?" I asked my best buddy.

"You'd have to be deaf not to," he said, sounding worried. I could see from the look in his starry black eyes that he felt like crying, just like me.

"We've gotta find out what's making that sound," I announced gallantly. Hobbes agreed, and we were off!

**Hobbes' POV**

I watched from my position, (tucked under Calvin's arm) as his dad gently placed the baby raccoon in the shoebox. A light blue towel was already adorning it, courtesy of Calvin's mom. How could hands that roughly flung me from onto Cal's bed be so gentle with the baby? But it wasn't time to be jealous. It was time to be concerned for this young life. It had been just recently brought into the world, was it going to so quickly be sent out?

From my awkward position I couldn't see much, just a bundle of fur, matted with dirt and blood. It was a pitiful site. I shuddered and Calvin glanced down at me. Aw, he's so thoughtful.

"I think I should head to my room now. Hobbes has a weak stomach, and I think he might puke." I grimaced. _Thanks a bunch, Calvin._ I saw his parents exchange sympathetic glances, as if they thought it was just an excuse for him. It probably was, but it was true: I WAS feeling queasy.

Not as much as Calvin, apparently…

**Calvin's POV**

I staggered from the bathroom and finally collapsed onto my bed, groaning. Melodramatic, I know, but I felt really sick. I must've looked miserable too, 'cause even Hobbes (who was still miffed about the whole weak stomach issue) looked sympathetic.

"How ya feeling champ?" he asked. I moaned again.

"Shut up Hobbes, please."

"Wow, you must be felling really bad, you NEVER say please!" he announced gleefully. If I had been feeling better, I would've hit him, but instead I just lay there. After seeing that he was safe, my furry pal lay down next to me.

"Too bad about the baby coon, huh?" he said. I nodded grimly.

"Yeah, I sure hope he makes it." Hobbes winced at my simple statement, and I braced myself for bad news. Had something happened while I was puking my guts out?

"Cal… You do know that the chances aren't good, right? I mean…he probably isn't going to make it." I winced. At least he wasn't dead. Yet…

"Yeah, well, it doesn't help that you're such a pessimist," I growled.

"I'm not being pessimistic buddy, I'm being realistic. "

I glared at him. I was feeling much better, so had plenty of strength to chuck a pillow at his head.

**Hobbes POV**

Late into the night I lay in bed thinking about the baby raccoon. Things really didn't look good for the poor guy. I knew that it would just kill Calvin if he died. _Please don't die, little raccoon,_ I though.

The next morning, I woke up early. To my surprise, Calvin was already up. He always slept in on Saturday's, even more than me. And then I saw the shadows under his eyes.

"Hey. You didn't get much sleep either?" I asked. He shook his head. I could see that he was a bundle of nerves.

"I was worried about the baby raccon."

"Yeah, me too," I agreed. Calvin shuddered.

"I want to go see him, to make sure he's doing ok, but…" he trailed off, but I knew what he was going to say. I was thinking it myself. _What if he died._

**Calvin's POV**

I paced nervously up and down my room, waiting until I heard Mom and Dad. Finally, I heard it. A bustle of noise in the kitchen. The suddenness of it, added with my anxiety caused me to topple over. Hobbes helped me up, and we slowly made our way downstairs.

Mom was in the kitchen, frying eggs for herself and Dad. (I always had my special cereal, of course.)

"Hi Mom." My voice was a dry croak. She looked anxiously at me.

"Calvin, did you get any sleep last night?" she asked. I shook my head.

"No, but that's not important. Where's Dad?"

"Out in the garage checking on the raccoon. But Calvin…" I didn't let her finish. I just grabbed Hobbes and ran.

"Dad, Dad! How's the little raccoon?" My dead looked up from the covered shoe box, grimacing. My subconscious mind realized what had happened, but my conscious mind refused to admit it. Because it couldn't be true, it couldn't…

"I'm sorry kid, but I'm afraid… he died." A simple statement, but it wreaked havoc on my brain. No, NO! I thought. I couldn't be true, just COULDN'T!!! Don't cry, I told myself. Don't! But, as usual, I didn't listen to myself. Nothing could stop the tears from spilling down my cheeks.

**Hobbes' POV**

I listened to the sound of Calvin's crying for hours. Looked like another sleepless night. I was angry at myself, too. I was his best friend, I should be hugging him right now, comforting the kid! And yet… I couldn't. I couldn't find the right words, words that would help, would heal. This was a wound that wouldn't heal fast, no, it would stay gaping for days. And even after that, it wouldn't be fully healed. So what could I do? Would giving Calvin a hug comfort him, or shatter him into a million pieces?

I looked over at my best friend. He looked back through tear-filled eyes, tears cascading down his face like a waterfall. He looked so lost, so sad, so tired, so alone. That right there, the emotion that I read in my friends face, decided me.

And so I leaned over and gave Calvin, my best friend in the world, a huge fuzzy tiger hug. And he, still sobbing, so that he soaked my fur in seconds, hugged me back.

**Like it? Sorry it was so sad, I just loved that cartoon, and had to write about it…. :( (Anyone know how to make a crying face?)**


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